


A Cliche Goodbye That Could have Been Worse

by tigereyes45



Category: Scoob And Shag
Genre: AU, Angst, Bugs and Scoob own my life now, Enjoy some shitty hipping fics, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, listen I am obsessed with this webtoons comic right now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 01:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19879672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigereyes45/pseuds/tigereyes45
Summary: Bugs always says he doesn't remember much from 'THAT' day of the war. He does, but that doesn't mean he wants to talk about. Especially when his clearest memory is about a certain other Commander.





	A Cliche Goodbye That Could have Been Worse

**Author's Note:**

> Listen I am really into the webcomic right now. It has me shipping Bugs and Scoob and all the angst so there. Take this shitty fanfic.

Bugs doesn’t remember much nowadays from that day. That’s what he tells people at least. When the Martians who are brave enough to ask, do. He always answers some variant of how he forgot. Sometimes it was the rage of battle that stole his memories away. None of that was true of course. The audience at home knows the truth. They and he, share the memories. A lot of people tuned out of the show as soon as he had finished Homer. The Simpsons were loved. Children cried for days after about him. As they did Bugs got rid of many other beloved cartoon characters.

He was going to slaughter them all. He had already decided once the Martians arrived. When he heard some of what Mickey had done his resolve only built. Even some of the audience ended up agreeing with his actions. It was they who still watch steadily. Even after the large massacre was over. Some cheering him on, others begging him to stop. It didn’t matter why they watch only that they do.

The memory that is clearest of that day is the final fight. The one that he all but crawled away from nursing his wounds. The scars healed, but the betrayal….that still stings.

He can still recall the look on Scoob’s face. The way his ballyhoo burnt bright enough to outshine their sun. Bugs always knew he could. He remembers smiling as a bittersweet feeling washes over him. He stood above the wreckage. The last of the free cartoons behind him. Those who were or had defected fleeing behind Bugs towards the Martians’ ships.

They were now on two separate sides of this war. Scoob protecting everything they were, while Bugs knew the truth. Scoob must have known too. He was just ignoring reality. That’s what he was always good at. That’s exactly how his ballyhoo came about.

“Bugs!” His voice was strained as he casts it across the valley. From his spot high on the cliff’s edge to where Bugs stood far below. He had more to say, but Bugs was done listening. He would never forget this hurt. That when he needed his friend most all he got was the end of his weapon.

“Later Scoob! We will meet again! Won’t we folks?” He asks with a cackle as the Martians call out.

It could have been more of a cliche departure. With Bugs farewell and some sappy message from Scoob. Scoob could have begged him to stop. Again. To join him and the others instead. Perhaps one last confession between the two. Although it may just be Bugs who had anything to confess. He never had been quite sure how the other commander felt.

Yet there were no confessions. No Bugs insisting that Scoob didn’t understand. No Scoob begging for his close friend to join him. No true last farewells. Just the two of them staring each other down as they leave. Once more with Scoob the hero and Bugs the, well, anti-hero he supposes.

The look on Scoob’s face was the last thing he remembers. For a brief moment as the ship closes behind Bugs his eyes deceive him. They insist on seeing tears in the other Commander’s eyes. As if he would cry over that lame excuse for an end. He had shaken his head and wander off into the ship. Preparing for another attack on the cartoons. There was always another. Even though thinking back his eyes betray him once more.

Bugs tucks himself away in an office that looks much like his old one. As the memories replay, he rubs at his face. His fur dampens under his eyes. He could say he was crying, but he wasn’t. Even all the viewers knew that truth. Bugs wasn’t crying. He especially wasn’t crying over the loss of his closest friend. Over what could never be now. Over the entire world of theirs that was lost or how Scoob has been missing ever since. No Bugs wasn’t crying over any of it. His eyes were merely wet due to the awful technology of the Martians. It was practically raining in this room after all. Seriously who built it?

Why was he even here?

“Find Scoob?” a timid voice suggests. A chant begins behind it. Slowly it grows louder, and faster. A demand now instead of a question. Bugs doesn’t want to find him. He doesn’t want a cliche end. If he does find him though then he might be able to die. The voices would stop. Scoob would still be a hero, and the audience will be pleased. There was so much hate coming from them lately. It was all getting to be a bit much.

Bugs pushes his back again the closest corner of the room. He slowly slides down to his knees. His eyes squeeze shut as he takes away the audience’s view. They would have to deal with silence for a little bit. He needed some time to think. Just him, and the memory of the one he was going to hunt down.


End file.
